


Tony's Hidden Depths

by Ytteb



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 07:52:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5448962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ytteb/pseuds/Ytteb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony can still surprise the team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tiny spoiler for 'Code of Conduct' – it always intrigued me

It was a fairly ordinary day in the squad room at NCIS Headquarters. The MCRT team under the watchful gaze of their leader Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs was working at a number of tasks: finishing paper work, working cold cases and enjoying not having to work at the breakneck speed of the previous fortnight. They would probably get bored after a while but for the moment they could live without catching another case for a short time. Gibbs relished the peaceful atmosphere – his agents were a bit too tired to have the energy to argue with one another but not so tired that they were easily irritated. The lead agent took a soothing sip from his coffee which was just at the perfect temperature – he allowed himself a little smile of contentment. Then he sensed Director Leon Vance coming down the stairs and, looking up, saw that he had a bundle of papers in his hand. Vance, Gibbs and paperwork was never a good combination. Things must be slow upstairs, he mused, for the Director to be making a visit.

The Director stopped in the middle of the squad room, waited until everyone looked up at him and then got straight to the point:

“SecNav wants to improve our image. He wants to be able to show that this Agency is caring and, er, community minded. With that in mind, he wants to know about any voluntary work NCIS agents do in their spare time.”

“Spare time? What's that?” Agent DiNozzo was heard to mutter. Vance ignored him in his usual majestic way.

“So, I need each of you to fill these forms in with the details. Hand them in by the end of the day.” With that, he plonked a small pile of paper on McGee's desk and stalked off. This showed the Director's wisdom – he had probably guessed that Gibbs would have swept them straight into the bin if he had given them to him. As it was, McGee got up and handed them out. Gibbs glared at his form and didn't even bother to put his reading glasses on. He took another sip of his coffee, which had cooled slightly.

Ziva picked up her form.

“While I do not quite see why the SecNav wants us to do this, I do not think this will be a problem. As it happens, I have just started volunteering to help people studying for their citizenship examinations. My language skills will be most useful to them.” McGee also could see no trouble,

“I'm with you, Ziva but I can put my scout leader work down.” And they both picked up their pens and began to write. After a few minutes, Tim looked up and noticed that, like Gibbs, Tony seemed to be ignoring the form on his desk.

“Er, Tony, I think the Director wants us all to fill in the forms.” Tony just stared at him and then returned to his work. Ziva decided to join in,

“Tony, if you haven't got any voluntary work to enter, I'm sure my program could do with some volunteers.”

“Doing what, Zeeva?”

“Well, although your language skills are much more limited than mine, I expect there would be some basic help you could offer.”

“It just so happens that I'm very fluent in Spanish, Italian  _and_  American.”

“If you say so although I would say that I am more proficient in Spanish and Italian. And I sometimes find difficulty in following your American.”

Tony responded with a string of rapid fire words in what McGee and Gibbs could only assume was Spanish. They noticed that Ziva went a bit pink.

“Um, what did you just say, Tony?” asked Tim.

“I was just demonstrating to Special Agent David that I am especially fluent in Spanish expletives.” Ziva rallied well,

“I apologize, Tony. It seems that you are more proficient than I in certain areas. Perhaps you would be able to give me lessons?”

“Ziva, attractive as it may sound to spend a couple of hours swearing with you, I think I’m going to pass.” And with that, he resumed his work and silence fell once more. Tim was concerned that Tony was going to incur the Director's wrath so he turned his mind to finding something for Tony to volunteer for.

The next day began much as the day before. Everyone sitting quietly getting on with their work until Vance came down the stairs.

“Gibbs, I've got all the forms for your team except for DiNozzo's.”

“I didn't fill one in, Leon,” said Gibbs.

“No,” agreed Vance, “but I know that you make the toys for the hospital so I put that down. Sort of thing the SecNav will love. But, Agent DiNozzo, I couldn't begin to guess what you might get up to in your spare time. You've got till lunchtime.”

“Is this compulsory, Director? I mean, I thought that spare time was meant to be spare time ... not that we get that much of it.” The team sensed that the Director was not happy with SecNav's requirements but was going to go along with it.

“Lunchtime would be good, Agent DiNozzo.” And he was gone, back up the stairs to his eyrie.

Tim saw his chance to be helpful.

“Tony, I've been thinking about things you might volunteer to do. I remembered that you said that you like old people ... and they do seem to like you”.

“Probably because their eyesight and hearing are going,” chuckled Ziva. Tony looked up and glared at both Ziva and Tim but Tim was determined to do his good deed.

“No, it's true, Ziva, old people do like Tony. Ask Gibbs about Tony and Ernie Yost. Anyway, I did an internet search of programs for assisting seniors that are based within a half-mile of your apartment. There's all sorts of opportunities – taking them for drives, reading to them and there's even one to take them to the cinema. I've got all the details and I've started to fill in an on-line application form for you.” Tim always dreaded getting one of Gibbs' glares but that day he was reminded that Tony's were just as alarming. Tony's eyes narrowed and his mouth formed a straight thin-lipped line and when he spoke it was in an icy tone of voice,

“Thank you, Special Agent McGee – it's good to know that you've got enough spare time to be meddling in the lives of people who you obviously feel don't measure up to your standards.” He made a visible effort to control himself, “but anyway, Tim, I can't really fill in the form with something I'm not doing yet, can I? And I'm not going to lie.” Gibbs intervened,

“McGee, delete that application form, I don't think DiNozzo will be needing it.” He walked over to Tony's desk. Tony looked up at him dejectedly,

“Please, Boss ... just leave it. It's not important.”

“I agree, but why's it got you going?” asked Gibbs.

“I've got a killer headache and I'm a bit shivery ... not the DiNozzo dazzler today, not firing on all cylinders”.

“Go and see Ducky,” ordered Gibbs, “Go on,” he said when he saw Tony open his mouth to object. Tony obeyed and Gibbs was concerned to notice for the first time that he looked a bit pale and weary. He resisted the temptation to walk down to Autopsy with Tony. About ten minutes later he got a call from Dr Mallard.

“Jethro, I'm sending Anthony home. I think he may be coming down with flu and I don't want to take any chances. We're not busy down here so Mr Palmer is going to drive him home and pick up some medicine on the way.”

“Thanks, Duck. Tell him not to come back until he's better.” He put the phone down and told the rest of the team.

“At least he won't have to fill the form in,” said McGee.

A week later the squad room was still quiet, and missing one member. Ducky had been right and Tony had come down with a nasty bout of flu. The team had rallied round: Ducky and Jimmy had dropped round at least once a day to check on him, Tim, Ziva and Abby had shopped, cooked, cleaned and generally looked after him. Gibbs had also visited daily and done whatever it was that Gibbs did to make Tony feel more Tony-like. The worst was now over but Ducky had decreed that another two days at home was needed before Tony could come back to work. The squad room had been a rather duller place without the DiNozzo effect at work so everyone looked up with interest when Gibbs' phone rang.

“Yeah, Gibbs.”

“Front desk here. There are a couple of boys down here asking everyone who comes in if they know where Agent DiNozzo is. It's getting to be a bit of a nuisance but we don't want to get heavy with them.”

“On my way.”

“Case, Boss?” asked McGee.

“Gear up?” said Ziva hopefully.

“Nope, coupla kids downstairs asking for DiNozzo”. He made for the elevator and wasn't really surprised to be tailed by Tim and Ziva. Children and Tony were an unlikely combination. Two boys slightly scruffy, to Gibbs' eyes (but hell what did he know – it might be the height of fashion) were standing at the reception desk with expressions of wary defiance on their faces.

“I'm Special Agent Gibbs, Agent DiNozzo's boss”.

“The man with the boats in the basement?” said one of the boys. “Cool.”

“And are you McGeek?” asked the other.

“Yes ... NO,” said McGee, “I'm Agent McGee, one of Agent DiNozzo's co-workers.”

“And you must be the ninja”, said the first boy looking at Ziva.

“You have the advantage on us,” said Gibbs, “who are you? And what do you want with Agent DiNozzo?”

“We wanted to check that he's still around ... not gone off and left us. I'm Jake and this is Rambo.”

The team looked at the undersized lad who was apparently named Rambo. He spoke up,

“That's what D calls me ... my real name is Robert.”

“Come on, boys. I think we've got some catching up to do. Why don't we go to the coffee shop and get some sodas?” suggested Gibbs.

And so, gradually, the boys' stories came out. It took a while because they were obviously fascinated by the three adults about whom they seemed to know a lot: they kept interrupting the 'interrogation' to ask questions about Ziva's use of paperclips, why Tim picked sprinkles off donuts and why Gibbs hated wearing his spectacles. The agents were relieved that Ducky was on a mercy mission to Tony's apartment as otherwise the whole thing would have taken even longer.

To Team Gibbs' astonishment it turned out that the boys knew Tony from the Urban Youth Project in downtown Washington. They couldn't tell the team what Tony did there except that somehow it was 'awesome' and D, as they called him, was something of a hero to them. But he hadn't been around for a week and they were worried. He did go long spells of not being there but he had always been able to let them know beforehand. Gibbs could tell that these kids were used to disappointment and being let down, they didn't seem to have much going for them and, somewhat surprisingly, Tony was one of the few good things in their lives.

“Jake, Rambo ... I promise you that Tony ... er ...D will be back. He's had flu and it knocked him back a bit so he hasn't been around”, said Gibbs.

“And he had to be careful, you know, after the plague,” supplied Tim.

“The plague!” gasped Jake and Rambo with round eyes. It seemed that while Tony talked a lot about his teammates, he didn't tell them everything about himself.

“Yes, you know 'superhero' stuff,” said Ziva. Jake and Rambo nodded wisely and touched their fingers to their noses to signify that they knew it was something to keep quiet about.

“Shouldn't you boys be in school?” asked Gibbs. He smiled at their guilty looks and said,

“OK, I'll run you back.” The boys looked a bit alarmed. McGee grinned as he realised why.

“Um, Boss, why don't I take them back?  _The D may have told them stories about your driving”._  Gibbs nodded,

“And when you get back, McGee ...”

“Yes, Boss, I'll start looking into Urban Youth Project.”

Later that afternoon, Tim looked up from his computer and said excitedly,

“I knew the name rang a bell. Do you remember, Ziva, that Halloween when Tony won the Larceny Lotto and donated the winnings to ...?”

“Of course, Urban Youth Project. I didn't quite believe him at the time.”

“What ya got?” asked Gibbs.

“Well, Urban Youth Project has been going for about fifteen years. It provides a sort of drop-in centre for underprivileged kids or kids who've got into trouble, it's a safe place for them. It's based in an old warehouse and has got some pretty cool stuff there ... PCs, games, basketball but it also runs classes for kids who have fallen behind. It's got a good reputation and has done some pretty serious fund raising too. Looks like a good place, Boss.”

“But it seems odd for Tony to be involved,” said Ziva, “I mean, why would he not have said something. And he does not like children. Are we sure this is not all a mistake?”

“DiNozzo's good with teenagers and older children,” said Gibbs, “it's toddlers that panic him. Good work, Tim. Go home, both of you.”

“What are you going to do, Boss?” asked Tim.

“I'm going to pay Urban Youth Project a visit,” replied Gibbs, “and no, you can't come too. Go with Abby to visit DiNozzo and don't tell him about Jake and Rambo.”

Gibbs was greeted like a long lost friend at the Project. As soon as he identified himself the manager invited him into the office and supplied him with a cup of strong coffee.

“Dale Bradshaw,” he introduced himself, “good to meet you at last. D's a big fan of yours you know and I don't think he's easily impressed.” Bradshaw was a man about Gibbs' age with thinning brown hair and grey eyes, short and wiry with a contented open expression. Gibbs liked what he saw, his gut told him that Dale was someone to be trusted.

“Well, Tony's one of a kind himself. He hasn't mentioned any of this to me and I thought I knew pretty much everything about him. How long has he been helping here?”

Bradshaw seemed to weigh things up for a while and then seemed to make up his mind,

“I guess it won't be breaking any confidences to tell you. Tony's been helping here about eleven years. Probably not long after he came to Washington ... just after he split up from Wendy. I must admit I didn't think he'd be here long but he was useful from the start. Great at basketball and football and even better at coaching the kids – phys ed degree and everything, you know. He says that he came because he had so much energy he didn't know what to do with himself even though you drove him hard at work ... I don't think he's got quite so much energy now ... boy, was he a ball of fire! But right from the getgo, he was great with the kids ... and it wasn't just about the sport, he listened to them, he cared about them and he gave them good advice. You might think that some of the kids here would be suspicious of a fed but it's never been a problem – they just seem to respect him.

“He's been good in other ways too. He's helped us a lot with fund raising – he's got contacts and he can turn on the charm when he needs to. I've joked with him a few times about it being good he uses his powers for good and not evil. And joshing apart, I think there's a grain of truth there – I think things could have gone wrong for him and he knows how easily he could have gone down another path. He's never said anything about that but I think that's another reason he's good with the kids – he knows what temptation is like. He's started helping out with language classes – although he says it's helping him ... he learns more Spanish swear words every time he runs a class! I told the boys he had the flu but they didn't quite believe me. I'm sorry they troubled you.”

“It's no problem, Mr Bradshaw, I'm glad to have met them.”

“Dale, please. You know, Gibbs, I'm going to retire in a couple of years’ time. I kinda hope that Tony might take over from me – the board would offer it to him in a flash.”

Later that night, when he was sure that Abby, Tim and Ziva would have left, Gibbs knocked on Tony's door.

“Hey, Boss, come in. Ziva brought some of her cholent if you want some.” Gibbs shook his head but accepted Tony's offer of coffee.

“I met some friends of yours today,” he offered.

“Cindy and Mindy?” asked Tony suggestively.

“No, Jake and Rambo.”

“Ah ... what did they want?”

“You. They were worried about you. Good kids ... they seemed to know a lot about us. Seems to me you could have filled in SecNav's forms without any problem.” Tony held his own cup of coffee a bit more tightly.

“Met Dale Bradshaw too. He's a big fan of the D.” Tony smiled,

“He's a great guy ... you know, I wasn't really keeping it a secret. At the beginning I didn't think I'd be there very long – apart from anything else I'd never kept a job for more than a couple of years.”

“Eleven years, Tony, that's a long time.”

“Well, we weren't really into sharing at the beginning, were we, Boss? And it was kind of good to have something completely separate from work. And nobody would really have believed that I was good with kids ... although Ziva would probably say it's because I am one myself. Do they know?”

Gibbs nodded and Tony winced,

“I'd better look out for paper clips then. I don't think she poisoned the cholent though, Abby and McGee had some. But Boss, you know, I didn't want to explain it all ... I'm not sure I  _can_  explain it. It's just something I'm good at ... and you said it's a rule, 'don't waste good'. I had a couple of people when I was growing up who sort of rescued me, gave me a sense of purpose, made me feel I was worth something ... it may sound sappy, but I'd like to be that person to some other lonely, invisible kid. But I'm not going to put it all down on a form just so that SecNav can feel good about himself.”

“Think they could use some wood working classes there, Tony?” asked Gibbs. Tony smiled,

“I guess so ... they've got some space in a basement. You can show them how to get boats out of basements ... they already think you're some sort of wizard. Hey, if I come to the classes, will you show me how you do it?”

“In your dreams, DiNozzo.” Gibbs raised his cup in a toast,

“Oohrah ... Proud of you, Anthony”.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place five or six years after the first chapter.

"DiNozzo!" snapped Special Agent Gibbs as he looked across the squad room where his Senior Field Agent was staring out of the window.

"What?" snapped back Tony.

Bishop and McGee exchanged nervous glances and wondered if they needed to pay an urgent visit to some other part of the building. Before they could formulate escape plans Tony seemed to realise what he'd done,

"Sorry, Boss," he said in a milder tone, "I was miles away."

"I can see that," said Gibbs, "but you're being paid to be  _here_. And to  _work_  here. I suggest you start doing something to earn your salary before a pink slip comes your way."

Tony looked at Gibbs speculatively. McGee and Bishop held their breath: they weren't quite sure why but the temperature in the squad room seemed to have dropped several degrees. Tim could see that Tony was about to say something and he suspected it wasn't going to be to discuss the team's current case.

"Boss," said McGee hurriedly, "I think I've got a lead on those stolen cell phones."

"Good work,  _Tim_ ," said Gibbs, "good to know someone around here is doing what they're supposed to. Going for coffee," he said as he walked towards the elevator.

"' _Good work, Tim_ , "mimicked Tony, "nice one, McGee. Thanks."

"Hey," said Tim, "don't moan at me. I was just …"

"I know,  _doing your job,_ " said Tony tiredly.

"If you must know," said Tim a little sulkily, "I was trying to look out for you. It looked as if you were about to open your mouth and put your big foot in it. I got there first, that's all."

"I can't see your foot in my mouth," said Tony in mock bewilderment.

"You know what I mean," said Tim.

"Yeah, I know. Thanks, McDiplomat."

"What's going on with you and Gibbs anyway?" asked Bishop as she approached Tony's desk after taking a precautionary glance behind to make sure Gibbs wasn't on his way back.

"Yeah, Tony," asked McGee, "what gives?"

"You mean apart from me being told to get back to work and the Boss swanning off for coffee? Again!"

"But he's always done that," said Bishop.

"That's what Gibbs does," said McGee, "I've always thought he goes out to clear his head and get some idea."

"Guess so," admitted Tony, "it just gets to me sometimes. He can go off and do what he wants but seems to need to chain me to the desk."

"He's the Boss," said Bishop.

"And he's making damn sure I know it," said Tony bitterly. He looked up and saw worried looks on the faces of his co-workers. "Hey," he said in a more cheerful voice, "it'll be fine. I'm just tired, that's all."

McGee and Ellie looked at one another in shock. It was almost unheard of for Tony to complain of tiredness; he seemed to think it was an admission of weakness and, given Gibbs' recent attitude, it was probably wise for him not to give an opportunity for being criticised.

"Are you all right, Tony?" asked Ellie.

"You did the outdoor surveillance last night," said Tim, "and it was cold."

"And wet," said Bishop.

"Not in the car," said Tony, "nice and dry in the car."

"Still," said McGee, "it was a long night."

"What are you?" said Tony indignantly, "my mother? We were  _all_  on watch last night."

"Yes, but  _we_  were in MTAC," said Bishop, "We could relieve one another. Have a rest."

"Well," said Tony, "it's the job of the  _Senior_  Field Agent to do the heavy lifting." He saw the doubtful expressions on his co-workers' faces. "Hey, back to work,  _junior_  agents. We don't want Gibbs coming back and finding us relaxing after only a fifteen hour working day, do we?"

Ellie and Tim were reluctant to leave the subject but equally reluctant to incur Gibbs' wrath so they made their way back to their desks. Gibbs returned soon afterwards and, unusually, had brought drinks for them all. Somehow Tony wasn't surprised to find that his coffee didn't have hazelnut creamer in and was stronger than he liked. He suppressed a sigh as he wondered why everything seemed slightly off kilter with Gibbs.

In recent weeks Gibbs had increasingly been sending McGee and Bishop out in the field if only two agents were needed. When the whole team went out to a crime scene, Gibbs had directed the work of the two younger agents leaving Tony to work more on his own. Tony could, to some degree, appreciate that Gibbs was developing the team's skills but it was coming at a cost to Tony's own sense of being needed. The previous evening Tony had been assigned a probie from Balboa's team to do the 'old fashioned' surveillance while McGee and Bishop had been ensconced in MTAC doing the 'techie' stuff.

Tony could see the logic of Gibbs' actions with the junior agents but he struggled to see a reason for Gibbs' attitude towards him. Gibbs was curt and abrupt and was avoiding being alone with him: the number of Gibbs' coffee runs and visits to Ducky or Abby had all increased. Tony had also noticed that Gibbs was having more meetings with Vance than usual and that Vance himself often lingered at the top of the stairs and looked down at Tony with an odd look in his eye. At least, Tony thought it was an odd look but it was difficult to know as, in the past, Vance had seemed to want to avoid looking at the irritating DiNozzo at all so Tony didn't have a lot of experience to go on. Tony pulled himself out of his reverie as Gibbs spoke,

"We're on surveillance again tonight. Bishop, McGee you're in MTAC with me. DiNozzo, you've got Mitchell again."

Tony sighed.

"Got a problem with that, DiNozzo?" asked Gibbs.

"Why am I in the car again?" asked Tony, "we usually switch about." Gibbs glared for answer. "Why not have Bishop and Tim in the car?"

"You questioning my orders?" asked Gibbs.

Tony reached for a reasonable tone of voice, "No, Boss. But Bishop knows how to do the surveillance from MTAC, why not let her learn the old fashioned way as well?"

Tim and Ellie held their breath as they waited for Gibbs' response. He weighed things up and then said,

"OK. Bishop, you're with me in the car. Tim, you can have Balboa's probie in MTAC."

"What about me, Gibbs?" asked Tony.

"You can have the night off," said Gibbs, "you look half asleep anyway. We can manage without you."

If Tony had been in a better mood he might have found it amusing to see the way in which Ellie and Tim looked as if they were at a tennis match, their eyes alternating between Tony and Gibbs as they waited to see what each was going to say or do next. Tony bit down on an angry reply,

"Fine," he said curtly.

"Bishop, McGee, go home," said Gibbs, "get some rest before tonight. DiNozzo will get things set up for the surveillance."

Tim and Ellie began to gather their gear together in readiness for heading out. They did it slowly enough that Gibbs had time to decide on a visit to Autopsy to avoid the danger of being left alone with Tony.

"Uh," said Ellie, "do you need a hand, Tony?"

"With what, Probie?" asked Tony with a brilliant but unconvincing smile.

"Setting up MTAC," said Bishop.

"No, I'm good," said Tony, "despite what some people say, I do know how to do electronic surveillance."

"Oh, I know that," said Ellie anxiously, "I just thought …"

"You don't need to think, Bishop," said Tony, "Gibbs does that for us."

"Tony …" said McGee in a worried voice.

"Go home, Tim," said Tony, "don't worry. I know …"

NCISNCIS

The night off didn't do Tony much good as he lay awake for hours trying to work out what Gibbs was up to. When he got to work the next day it was to find that Gibbs had given Tim and Ellie the morning off and had left directions for Tony to go through the surveillance footage to check that nothing had been missed. Gibbs himself was off on some mysterious errand of his own.

Gibbs arrived back just as Tim and Bishop came into work. If Tony suspected that the Boss had waited till he saw them drive up before making his own appearance.

"Boss," said Tony, "I think I've got something off the surveillance cameras."

"What?" asked Gibbs.

"Look," said Tony, bringing some shots up on the plasma. "This guy. He was walking past at 0200 last night. And look, he was there the same time the previous night. Who walks round that part of town at that time of night?"

Gibbs stared at the pictures and opened his mouth to speak but Tony got there first,

"I had Abby run facial recognition. He's Conrad Whitlock. Former petty officer. Bad conduct discharge eighteen months ago for dishonesty. He worked in communications before the discharge. He'd know about cell phones. I've got his address and where he works. I think it would be worth speaking with him."

Gibbs' mouth opened and closed. For a moment Tony expected to hear the words 'good job' but he was disappointed.

"McGee. You're with me. We'll go and talk to Whitlock. Bishop, go over the rest of the footage. See if there's anything else."

McGee shot a sympathetic look at Tony before trailing after Gibbs. Ellie hesitated and then walked over to Tony's desk,

"Um, do you want to send it over to me?" she said apologetically.

"Sure," said Tony easily, "I've got a visit to make."

Tony strode deliberately up the stairs and knocked at the Director's door.

"Come," said Vance.

"Can I have a word, Sir?" said Tony.

"Take a seat," said Vance almost eagerly.

"I think it's time for me to move on, Sir," said Tony, "I …"

"At last," said Vance, "you know, I had doubts about Gibbs' way of doing things but I see that he was right after all."

"Sir?" said Tony.

NCISNCIS

Later that evening, Tony padded down the stairs to Gibbs' basement. Gibbs looked up warily but found himself relaxing when he saw that Tony was wearing comfortable old jeans and a tatty sweatshirt.

"So," said Tony as way of introduction, "I saw the Director this afternoon."

"Hmm," said Gibbs.

"Told him I thought it was time to move on."

For a moment or two, Gibbs continued to stare at the piece of wood he had been sanding and then, taking a deep breath to compose himself, said,

"'Bout time."

"It was real enlightening," said Tony conversationally, "the Director said he'd been expecting me to tell him for weeks."

"Tell him what?"

"That I wanted to move on. Seems that you and he agreed after my last appraisal that it was time for me to take on my own team."

"Yes."

"But that you thought I wouldn't want to. That I'd have to be persuaded somehow. That I wouldn't want to leave the team. Leave you," said Tony.

"You telling me different?" said Gibbs with an almost amused look on his face.

"I see now," said Tony, "all this cold shoulder stuff, it was designed to make me want off the team?"

"I wasn't 'cold shouldering' you," protested Gibbs.

"Then what have you been up to?" demanded Tony.

"I was trying to show you that the team could manage without you. That Bishop and Tim were ready to step up."

"So why did that mean you've barely spoken to me for weeks?" said Tony.

"Took all my time watching them," said Gibbs, "telling them what to do. Doing the things you'd normally be doing."

"Why didn't you just tell me what was going on?" asked Tony.

Gibbs just looked at Tony blankly.

"Stupid me," said Tony, "couldn't expect the great Gibbs to  _explain_ himself."

"Years ago, Jenny told me that you turned down Rota because you were worried about me," said Gibbs, "worried about the team. I didn't want to risk you doing that again."

"Like you said, that was years ago," said Tony.

"You saying things have changed?" asked Gibbs, "that you don't worry now?"

"Things do change, you know," said Tony. "Sure I worry. I've been worried that perhaps you haven't got over being shot. That you've got some sort of trauma that's made you behave so weird."

"See," said Gibbs, "I was right."

"No," said Tony, "you weren't. I was worried about the  _team_. I worried that you'd put McGee and Bishop in the firing line but not so worried about  _you_."

"Why not?"

"What's the point? You don't  _want_  me worrying about you. Not the almighty all powerful Gibbs. He doesn't want a loser like me on his back."

"DiNozzo," sighed Gibbs. "I don't think you're a loser and I don't want to lose you off the team. But it's time."

"Why should I believe that, Gibbs?"

"When have I lied to you, Tony?"

"I don't know. Let me see? When you told me it wasn't my fault that Jenny died?"

"It  _wasn't_  your fault."

"Didn't stop you blaming me though, did it? I think the rot set in then. When you realised I might obey orders even if I didn't like them. Not really your type of agent, am I?"

"That's not true," said Gibbs.

"If you say so," said Tony.

"I do," said Gibbs.

Tony stared at Gibbs but decided not to press further.

"So, tell me again why you couldn't just tell me that you thought I was good enough for my own team. Assuming that's what you thought and you didn't just want me off  _your_ team."

"You need to be handled, Tony," said Gibbs.

" _Handled?"_

"Sure. Seem to remember you don't like it when I'm nice to you."

"Haven't got a whole lot of experience of that, Gibbs," said Tony drily.

"I know how you think," said Gibbs, "I knew you needed to decide to leave the team in your own way."

"Your way," corrected Tony.

"You mean to tell me that if I'd told you it was time for you to leave the team you'd have believed me?" scoffed Gibbs.

"Why not?" said Tony. "Seems pretty straightforward to me. Perhaps you don't know how I think after all."

"What?" said Gibbs, "you and me have always understood one another."

"Once. Perhaps," said Tony. "A time when your door was always open to me, when you told me not to die and I didn't, when we had cowboy steaks and basement conversations."

"See," said Gibbs.

"Things change, Gibbs. People change."

"What about that time we found out about you helping out at that youth project thing," said Gibbs, "I understood you then, didn't I?"

"Yes," said Tony, "seem to remember you saying you were proud of me but that was more than five years ago. And I don't remember you following through."

"What you mean?"

"You did a couple of wood working lessons and then it dropped off."

"You know what it's like with this job," said Gibbs, "difficult to commit."

"Sure," said Tony, "especially when there's so much revenge to run after."

"You criticising the way I work?" said Gibbs.

"I guess not," said Tony, "but it's not the way  _I_  want to work. I don't want the job to eat me up like it does you. You know what I think you've been up to the last few weeks?"

"I told you," said Gibbs impatiently, "showing you that the team can manage without you."

"I think you were  _checking_  that the team could work without me. And if you decided it could, then maybe you'd have told me."

"No," said Gibbs.

Tony shrugged, "if you say so. But, Gibbs, you don't understand me as well as you think. If you did, you wouldn't have done what you did."

"What?"

"Didn't you think it might be  _painful_  to be excluded?" said Tony.

"No," said Gibbs honestly, "I did what I thought was right, that you'd get over it. I figured you'd trust me to be doing what was right."

"Why would I do that?" asked Tony softly, "I would have trusted you once. Without question but … I don't know, Gibbs. You've almost become …"

"What?"

"I don't know. A caricature of yourself. Like you've come to believe in your own mythology. Strong, silent and gruff is the way to go."

"That's the way I've always been," said Gibbs, "didn't used to bother you."

"No," disagreed Tony, "it's not how you've always been. You used to laugh. I always thought there was a soft side to you. Perhaps there still is, but not for me. Not now, not for a long time. Perhaps when you thought you could control me, when you thought I'd always do what you said; perhaps then you could afford to show a softer side but once I started going my own way … well, you didn't like that so much."

"What are you saying, Tony?" asked Gibbs.

"I'm saying that you got this wrong. I still respect you, Boss. You're brilliant at your job and I've learned a lot. I may not  _like_  you much at the moment but like I told you once, you taught me how to do this job and I'm grateful. If you'd come to me, like an adult, and said, 'Tony, the Director and I think you're good at the job and you deserve a promotion,' I'd have believed you."

Gibbs took a sip of his previously untouched bourbon and gazed at Tony over the rim of the jar.

"OK," he said finally, "rule 51. Sometimes you're wrong."

Tony relaxed slightly.

"And I'll break rule 6," Gibbs added, "I'm sorry, Tony."

"What for?" asked Tony.

"Seems like a lot of things," said Gibbs ruefully, "and Tony, I will miss you."

"OK," said Tony cautiously, "I'm not letting you off the hook completely but perhaps it won't matter so much if we're not working together any more. When you find out  _if_  the team really can work without me."

"It will work without you," said Gibbs determinedly, "… but it won't be the same. It's been one hell of a ride, Tony." He poured Tony a drink and handed it to him. "No more misunderstandings," he said.

Tony knocked his glass against Gibbs', "I'll drink to that," he said.

"So," said Gibbs, "what did the Director offer you? Norfolk? San Diego. Pearl Harbour?"

"No," said Tony.

Gibbs began to bristle on Tony's behalf, "why not? He said there'd be openings coming up. Have I just spent weeks disrupting the team for no reason?"

"I didn't give him a chance to make me an offer," said Tony.

"Why not? You said you told him it was time to move on?"

"It's funny you brought up the youth project," said Tony. "Must have been your gut working."

"What you mean?" asked Gibbs.

"You remember Dale Bradshaw saying he was coming up for retirement?" asked Tony. "Well, a few weeks ago, the board of Urban Youth offered me his job."

"And?"

"And I turned it down. Flat."

"Good."

"And then they asked me to think again. So I did and I thought about Jake and Rambo. Do you remember them?"

Gibbs nodded as he vaguely remembered two scruffy, scrawny boys who had come looking for the D.

"Rambo's off to Ohio State in the fall. Going to read medicine. Jake's going to art school. That wouldn't be happening if it wasn't for Urban Youth. Made me think that I could do some real good if I went to work for them full time. Didn't seem there was much for me at NCIS apart from schlepping for the rest of the team."

"You're wrong," said Gibbs, "you have got a part to play, a big part."

"Yeah, well," said Tony, "perhaps if I'd known that; if you hadn't decided to play the great puppet master pulling all the strings … well, who knows?"

"What do you mean?" asked Gibbs.

"If I'd known that I was a valued member of the MCRT, that the Director was champing at the bit to promote me … then perhaps I wouldn't have accepted the offer from Urban Youth and I wouldn't be about to become their new Director."

"But you can change your mind," urged Gibbs, "now that you know."

"I promised," said Tony solemnly, "have you got a rule about not breaking promises? Doesn't really matter if you have or not, I have."

"But …," said Gibbs.

"It doesn't matter, Gibbs. I don't want to change my mind. I might have accepted the offer on impulse, because I wanted to get away from the weird atmosphere you created but once I'd done it … well, I realised it was the right decision." He looked at Gibbs, "time to catch people before they even begin to think of crime. That's my way forward."

"Tony …" began Gibbs.

Tony laughed. Gibbs looked at him in surprise because it was an unexpectedly joyful sound: it wasn't a sarcastic laugh but one of complete delight.

"DiNozzo?" said Gibbs irritably.

Between gasps of laughter, Tony managed to say, "Your gut was right all along."

"Tony?"

"It worked out the perfect way to get me to move on … it just wasn't in the direction you intended. Oh God, you are always right! Even when you don't mean to be!"

Gibbs stared for a moment or two and then broke out a somewhat rusty grin.

"We good then?" he asked as he extended his hand.

Tony managed to stop chuckling long enough to accept the handshake.

"We're good," he agreed, "although Vance is pissed at you!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never really expected to add to the original story but, with the news that Tony is leaving the show, I thought this was a fitting way for him to move on.  
> Right to the end I'd meant this story to be full of angst and anger but then I realised that Gibbs' gut had, in a rather twisted way, made things come right for Tony if not for NCIS ... and so, a sort of happy ending.


End file.
